The Swift Steed Inn
by Mithrilquill
Summary: Haldir rides to Rivendell for news to report to the Lorien. He arrives in the middle of the night, breaking his journey at the Swift Steed Inn -happy to see a familiar, pretty face. Book-verse, Haldir/OFC, One-Shot


Haldir rides to Rivendell for news to report to the Lorien. He arrives in the middle of the night, breaking his journey at the Swift Steed Inn -happy to see a familiar, pretty face. (Book-verse, Haldir/OFC, One-Shot)

* * *

The Swift Steed Inn

_**Sometime between 2997-2998 of the Third Age**_

He drifted in and out of his meditations, shaking himself sober and fully aware as he came to the steep descending trail that led down the hillside and to the bottom of the ravine to Rivendell. He smirked at the stone structures and buildings there, so different than that of the flets of Caras Galadhon of the Lorien.

The hooded elf dismounted his horse as he neared the east gates of the great city where the dirt path turned to a paved stone road. His silver cloak was embellished with beads of dew and they reflected softly in the blue moonlight.

He whistled quietly to his companion, gesturing the horse to follow across the road and through the courtyard, under the arches of trees and toward the inn.

Tying the reigns to the post outside, the tall, broad-shouldered man left his companion to rapt sharply on the heavy oaken door of the public house. The sign above was carved with Sindarin script reading, _The Swift Steed Inn._

"Who goes there?" a deep voice resounded from the back of the house. Shuffling feet made their way to the door.

The innkeeper cracked the door and observed the caller's person. He was tall and lean with green and grey raiment and he wore an elaborate bow and quiver on his back, and from under his hood hung long, white-blonde hair.

"I am called Haldir. I am a warden from the West. I have boarded here before, Master Rainion."

The innkeeper opened the door and gestured for Haldir to enter.

"Forgive me, it would be simply impossible to recall every boarder that has made their stay here, even but in the last season," he explained, taking the traveler's cloak and hanging it on the rack beside the door. "But an elf of the guard is always welcomed, luckily for you," the dark haired man chuckled to himself.

"You _do _wish for a room?"

"Yes, yes of course," Haldir eagerly answered. "And I have a horse. He will need water and stables."

"And with exactly one remaining space in the stables, you really _are_ one for luck!" The innkeeper walked to the hall. "Venessiel!" he called, "Receive our new guest, I am to the stables!"

He took his leave, making an uneasy Haldir, alone in the fire-lit common room. He took his bow and quiver from his back.

"Ah, our guard to the Lorien," the maiden smiled brightly at Haldir. "A strange hour to be calling, is it not?"

Haldir forced a smile, cursing himself for letting it appear exactly so. The woman gave a small chuckle, uneasily tucking a stray golden lock of hair behind her pointed ears. She had guessed he was not one for revealing too much of himself. It was better that way, she decided. Thinking him -a boarder, someone she was in a way employed by- Well, thinking him handsome was unseemly enough, but if she learned more of his character and nature, and found that appealing too! Oh, if it could altogether be avoided!

"You remember me?"

"Yes, I do," she spoke softly, moving to the fire. She took a poker from the brick mantel and pushed another log into the red-embered pile. Haldir watched her, swallowing hard. He wracked his travel-weary mind for something to say.

"Please, sit," she invited him to the two empty chairs before the hearth before making her way into an adjacent room. She re-emerged soon after carrying a tray.

Haldir intently watched the innkeeper's daughter as she sat the platter beside him on the end table and moved her delicate hands to carefully pour him a goblet of crimson wine.

"A cordial, to rest easy," she encouraged, "Unless you would prefer _Miruvor_?"

He shook his head and took the goblet from her cream-white hands.

"And there are biscuits and cakes. I am afraid that is all I have to offer, until morning."

"Thank you, my lady," the corner of his mouth twitched and he quickly averted his eyes, unable to look into her weather-blues for more than a second. She took the seat opposite him and sighed deeply, reveling in the warmth from the fire pit.

"Yes, I do remember you, Master Haldir," her voice was velvety and smooth as _he_ had remembered.

He sipped the rich wine slowly, watching the orange, dancing glow of the fire on Venessiel's face. How is it that she remembered his name, when Rainion had not remembered _anything_ of him, he contemplated unaware that he was pursing his lips, amused at his thoughts. Venessiel followed his idle gaze to the wall above the mantel.

"I crafted it for my Ada. I gifted it to him on the birthday of my Naneth the year past. It is a difficult day for him, since she passed over the sea," she explained. Haldir realized he had been inadvertently staring at an ornate tapestry. It depicted a quiet river scene in a green wood.

He stood and walked to the design, studying it carefully.

"It is a small old stream not far, it is where my parents became betrothed," she smiled wistfully but with a sad twinkle in her eyes.

"It is very well crafted," he ventured. He was never sure what to say when people began to open themselves to him. "I… Well, I should like one, myself."

"Master Haldir," she laughed, "I do not require flattering. I am but a humble novice for sure. It is simply a sentimental piece." A small blush crawled into her cheeks.

Haldir looked back at the tapestry, uneven and inconsistent in pattern. Perhaps he was a biased observer, he resigned to, somewhat embarrassed at his seeming attempt to flatter a pretty maiden.

He walked back to his seat and sat, careful not to knock over his bow and quiver that leaned inelegantly against his chair.

"It is all done, Master Warden," Rainion came bumbling in. "Your _fine_ mare is tended to. Now let me show you to your bed." He gestured the elf to beside the door, where the stairs led to the dormitories.

Haldir stood and took up his weapon and quiver. He turned to Venessiel and gave a small bow, taking one last look at her face for the night. She gave a small smile at the warden, and he thought he saw another twinkle in her eyes.

* * *

Haldir sat on the downy mattress and pulled his boots off one at a time. He loved the Lorien dearly and was never too eager to leave her, but his stays at the Swift Steed always proved to earn his trips' worth. Seeing the fair innkeeper's daughter, hearing her sweet humming voice and her soft, coy laughs-Well, he should hope to find a wife just like her in his home, someday.

He laid back against the pillow as he closed his eyes, preparing to rest his weary mind. He smiled. He very much looked forward to the morning, when he would see her one last time.

Until next time.

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**A/N: **Let me know what you think! Leave a review! Also,

**_Miruvor_ was a warm and fragrant clear liquid. Its special property was to give the drinker renewed strength and vitality. (tuckborough dot net)**


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